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Dont Violate Video (MV)






3 6 Mafia - Dont Violate Lyrics




(feat. Frayser Boy)

[Intro] {How many, how many talk that shit} [repeated throughout the intro]
3 6 Mafia
Frayser Boy
Yeah, yeah it's going down
You know what I'm sayin'?
A lot of times we use the word bitch
That goes for niggaz and hoes
Whoever violate, gettin' faced wit' that bullshit
Here's what you do

[Hook: DJ Paul + (Juicy J)]
Put your foot up they ass (what)
Foot up they ass (what)
If these bitches actin' bad
Put your foot up they ass (yep) [2x]
And tell that hoe (Don't violate me hoe, don't violate) [4x]

[DJ Paul]
Now niggaz man they try to copy the Three 6 but they too sloppy
You boys is fakers, nothin' but carbon copies
When we step up in the club, niggaz they play dead
'Cause of raps and all that bullshit that they said
It ain't nothin behind your mugs but some motherf*ckin' hugs
Y'all niggaz nicer than grandmas and f*ckin' ladybugs
Yall haters shakin' like booties up in a strip club
I'll cut your head off like Al Queda in this bitch WHAT!

[Juicy J]
I aint playin' wit' you niggaz
I'll put my hands on you niggaz
My foot will stand on you niggaz
I thought you knew we pull triggers
So why you testin' me bitches
You must be tryin' to get stitches
All on your forehead, you're cold dead
For f*ckin' wit' pimpin'
I'll take the back of a gun
Hit you, you startin' to run
Split you wit' two f*ckin' halves
You mad runnin' your tongue
I ain't no hoe that be likin'
Bustin' and fightin' and bitin'
I'm like a Tennessee Titan
Tacklin' and bringin' the lightnin' bitch!

[Hook]

[Crunchy Black]
See I'm quick wit' the pistols
Shootin', ain't missin'
If I catch you slippin' then I'm going to get you mister
I ain't gon' miss ya
I'ma go and split ya
No evidence, witnesses, no pictures
Talk that shit bro
Told you I'ma get ya
Hit you in the head wit' the tip of the pistol
Yea' I do it big, shit I'm playin' wit' your sister
Like eskimos, leave you froze in a blizzard

[Frayser Boy]
Pick his ass up, drop him off on his last breath
F*ckin' wit' the hypnotize, you gon' have a fast death
Real niggaz, yeah we is, you can come and find out
Frizzle's on that bay, I can show you what my mind 'bout
Three 6 got me on now I got to keep a tone
'Cause they haters now my haters, if we have to beef it's on
Most of y'all been hoes, Frayser Boy's ten toed
Leave his ass in the past nigga like Nintendo, whoa

[Hook]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.




(feat. Frayser Boy)

[Intro] {How many, how many talk that shit} [repeated throughout the intro]
3 6 Mafia
Frayser Boy
Yeah, yeah it's going down
You know what I'm sayin'?
A lot of times we use the word bitch
That goes for niggaz and hoes
Whoever violate, gettin' faced wit' that bullshit
Here's what you do

[Hook: DJ Paul + (Juicy J)]
Put your foot up they ass (what)
Foot up they ass (what)
If these bitches actin' bad
Put your foot up they ass (yep) [2x]
And tell that hoe (Don't violate me hoe, don't violate) [4x]

[DJ Paul]
Now niggaz man they try to copy the Three 6 but they too sloppy
You boys is fakers, nothin' but carbon copies
When we step up in the club, niggaz they play dead
'Cause of raps and all that bullshit that they said
It ain't nothin behind your mugs but some motherf*ckin' hugs
Y'all niggaz nicer than grandmas and f*ckin' ladybugs
Yall haters shakin' like booties up in a strip club
I'll cut your head off like Al Queda in this bitch WHAT!

[Juicy J]
I aint playin' wit' you niggaz
I'll put my hands on you niggaz
My foot will stand on you niggaz
I thought you knew we pull triggers
So why you testin' me bitches
You must be tryin' to get stitches
All on your forehead, you're cold dead
For f*ckin' wit' pimpin'
I'll take the back of a gun
Hit you, you startin' to run
Split you wit' two f*ckin' halves
You mad runnin' your tongue
I ain't no hoe that be likin'
Bustin' and fightin' and bitin'
I'm like a Tennessee Titan
Tacklin' and bringin' the lightnin' bitch!

[Hook]

[Crunchy Black]
See I'm quick wit' the pistols
Shootin', ain't missin'
If I catch you slippin' then I'm going to get you mister
I ain't gon' miss ya
I'ma go and split ya
No evidence, witnesses, no pictures
Talk that shit bro
Told you I'ma get ya
Hit you in the head wit' the tip of the pistol
Yea' I do it big, shit I'm playin' wit' your sister
Like eskimos, leave you froze in a blizzard

[Frayser Boy]
Pick his ass up, drop him off on his last breath
F*ckin' wit' the hypnotize, you gon' have a fast death
Real niggaz, yeah we is, you can come and find out
Frizzle's on that bay, I can show you what my mind 'bout
Three 6 got me on now I got to keep a tone
'Cause they haters now my haters, if we have to beef it's on
Most of y'all been hoes, Frayser Boy's ten toed
Leave his ass in the past nigga like Nintendo, whoa

[Hook]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: CEDRIC COLEMAN, DARNELL CARLTON, JORDAN HOUSTON, PAUL D. BEAUREGARD
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management

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